


My Name is Dean

by River_of_Dawn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Bobby Singer, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer is Dean Winchester's Parent, Dean Winchester Angst, FTM Dean Winchester, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jessica Moore Lives, Minor Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Parental Bobby Singer, Trans Male Character, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 23:45:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19756207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_of_Dawn/pseuds/River_of_Dawn
Summary: There was always something different about Deana. It just took some time to figure it out.





	My Name is Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, I don't own the characters. I'm just playing with them :)

Deana somehow always knew that she was different. And not only in the one way that was obvious, what with her father hunting monsters and them always moving. Although that was pretty weird and different too.

No, it was something else.

Deana didn’t really knew what it was. Maybe it was the fact that she never really seemed to fit in with all the other girls at school. Personally, she thought that that might come from the fact, that she liked boys stuff better. The other girls didn’t practice shooting and also didn’t have as much muscle as Deana. Maybe it was just the fact, that she would usually run around with the boys during break.

She didn’t know and didn’t care.

What did it matter, if she had a hard time finding other girls to play with?

There were more important things to worry about. Sammy’s next meal, for example. Dad had made it Deana’s responsibility (apparently because he had many things to worry about and was busy keeping them both safe) to look after her little brother.

But as she grew older, the differences became more obvious. Deana was the only girl in school with short hair (Dad said it was easier to maintain and less dangerous) and when the boys stopped wanting to play with a girl, she became isolated.

In high school they called her “butch” because she wore sports bras that kept her breast flat (again for easier handling), as well as old, worn jeans and flannels, combined with her short hair. It hurt. Deana wasn’t a butch.

Two years later, in junior year, Deana admitted that she might be a butch. But only to herself. Girls were pretty and maybe she actually wanted to have a girlfriend. But at the same time Deana still liked boys. It was confusing and she hid that part of her away, only going on dates with boys, not that she really likes the dates, nor the possible sex that came afterwards. The only good part of that whole process was, how her Dad would smile that apparently she was turning out normal and a good girl.

Deana didn’t know how to feel about that.

She didn’t really liked being called a girl. She thought that maybe it was the whole stigma surrounding girls. Deana wanted to be strong and muscly and tall, unlike the other girls. Sometimes when she looked in the mirror, her eyes caught on her jawline, and she turned her head until it kinda looked manly and strong, biting her teeth together and looking into her reflection.

Other times she would leave the shower and turn sideways towards the motel bathroom’s mirror, so that her breasts weren’t visible, imagining that they didn’t exist.

As she grew older, the dislike towards her body became more obvious. Under the disapproving eyes of her father she would hunch inwards sometimes, only to be reprimanded to stand straight, pushing her breasts to the forefront of her mind and body again.

Deana began wearing two sport bras, which helped making her breasts even smaller, but still not flat enough, never flat enough. She wore a t-shirt and then a flannel and over that flannel a jacket, in the hopes that it would hide the curves of her body. She started walking with broader strides, kept her hair meticulously short and wore boys pants whenever possible.

The first time somebody called Deana a ‘he’ it just clicked.

The feeling of it being right to be called he just surged through her body and she couldn’t help but smile. If Sammy noticed, he didn’t say anything.

Afterwards Deana began questioning who she was for real, never being able to forget that one time a clerk had called her a man. After some time, Deana decided that she would try to be seen as a man more often.

At the age of eighteen she dropped out of school.

At the age of twenty-two Sam went to college.

At the age of twenty-three Deana began hunting on her own.

And at the age of twenty-three on a hunt in Michigan, she heard the word ‘transgender’ the first time.

After finishing that hunt, Deana dropped most things, immersing herself in research about being born in the wrong body, the wrong sex. It was fascinating. And it felt right. This whole thing. And the realization that this was possible, that she could be a he, made her tear up.

 ~~She~~ he started making fake IDs for males, applied for credit cards under a male name.

The next time he met Bobby, he was worried about what the older hunter would say.

When the grizzly man opened the door, invited Deana in and roughly asked her what she wanted to talk about, Deana couldn’t help but fell grateful for the man who had been so much more of a father then John had ever been.

“I… I feel more like a boy,” he uttered on Bobby’s sofa, staring down on the can of beer in his too feminine hands, shuffling around nervously.

The older hunter’s stare seemed to burn into Deana, without him even having to look up.

Bobby took a gulp from his own beer.

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised.”

Deana’s head shot up, disbelieving. The older hunter stood up, setting his beer down, and holding an arm to the side.

“Come here.”

With a relieved sob, he would deny forever, Deana fell into Bobby’s arms, clinging to the older hunter’s shirt in desperation and thanks, as tears streamed down his face, the acceptance seemingly flooding his entire body.

He couldn’t say how much time had passed when they separated.

Rubbing his tears away, he thanked Bobby quietly.

“No need to thank me, boy,” the man said, sitting down again. “You’re still the same snot-nosed kid I had to patch up when you ran away from me to play in the scrapyard.”

Hearing Bobby call him a boy was one of the best things Deana had ever experienced.

“So, what should I call you now?” the hunter asked.

Deana shrugged, because whilst he had entertained the idea of changing his name, he still wasn’t sure, how to change it, and what name it should be.

“Well, then we can search for a new name together.”

Deana nodded, the idea appealing to him.

In the end they decided on Dean, sticking close to his original name.

“Okay, Dean, let’s get you that name change.”

Hearing his new name being used to address him almost made Dean cry again.

He spent the next two weeks with Bobby before leaving again to hunt.

By now Dean was able to pass more easily. Wearing completely male clothing, having a male name and short hair made the whole process easier. Most people nowadays called him sir and he.

When Dean was twenty-four and met up with his father for the first time in two years in person, he wasn’t surprised to see that John wasn’t as accepting as Bobby had been. But in the end, when they parted, John said, that he had done well on their shared hunt and that was more then Dean had ever dared to hope for.

So when John went missing in October 2005 Dean wanted to find him.

And for the first time in four years he went to Palo Alto, visiting Stanford.

The first two days he just shadowed his brother. Sam had grown a lot since he had left him, now being taller then Dean. Also, his little brother had gotten himself a girlfriend. And damn, if Dean wasn’t proud of that kid.

His second night there, Dean used to break into his little brother’s apartment. The security was more then lacking. Nothing against demons or monsters and just the bare minimum against humans. Really, before Dean left that kid alone again, he was gonna remind him of what exactly security was.

...Which was also kind of the reason why Dean broke into the apartment in the first place, instead of showing up during daylight, ringing the bell and announcing himself.

When he had Sam pinned underneath him after a short scuffle, his brother needed a bit of time to recognize him. Of course he did. The last time they saw each other Dean had still identified as a girl.

“Deana?” he asked confused. “What are you doing here?”

Dean grinned up at him.

“What? I can’t check up on my brother anymore?”

Sam gave him a bitch face as they both stood up.

“Normal people don’t break in when they want to check up on somebody.”

“Well, what can I say? Breaking in was ridiculously easy and we’re not exactly normal, now, are we?”

A sound at the door made them turn around. Standing there was Sam’s girlfriend.

“Uh, Jess? This is my sister Deana. Deana, this is my girlfriend Jessica.”

“Nice to meet you,” greeted Dean her, a bit unhappy that Sam had introduced him as his sister, but his brother didn’t know any better, so he forgave him.

“You too. Uh… forgive me, but you don’t really look like a girl.” Jessica raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah, that...” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, this is a bit awkward now...” Sam stared at him, apparently curious as well. “See, I was born as Deana and as a girl, but nowadays I go by Dean… Have for three years now.”

“You mean like George from Famous Five?” Jessica asked.

“Uh, I wouldn’t know, I’ve never heard of him.”

“George was born as a girl but wants to be called a boy and treated like one,” Jessica explained.

“Yeah, like that,” Dean agreed, happy that at least Sam’s girlfriend was reacting positively, even if Sam hadn’t said anything yet.

“Well, then it’s nice to finally meet Sam’s big brother,” Jessica concluded.

Dean grinned at her, deciding that he liked her.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Sam asked with a hurt undertone in his voice.

“It… uh, never really came up? Also, I myself only found out about it after you had gone to college.”

Sam sighed.

“Alright. If that’s what makes you happy… Dean.” He smiled shyly at Dean as he used his new name for the first time and Dean couldn’t help but grin back. “But… why are you here? I mean, I’m not complaining, but this is the first time in four years that I see you.”

“Dad’s gone on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days,” Dean told him, seeing realization flash through Sam’s eyes.

“That’s not unusual, Dean.”

“Usually not, but it was supposed to be an easy hunt and I just got one voice mail, that gives me cause for concern.”

“What’s so weird about that voice mail, that you just have to take me on the hunt again? I was out, Dean. I don’t wanna start with all of that again. I mean, I finally have a normal life now!”

“Do you have any idea on how fast this whole ‘normal’ thing could blow up in your face? You don’t have any security here. I got in here without problems, just imagine what other beings could do!”

Dean saw a bit of movement in the corner of his eye, before Jessica stepped between them.

“Wait, Sam, what is he talking about?”

Sam dragged a hand down his face.

“Thank you, Dean,” he bitched.

Dean shrugged with a shit-eating grin.

After they had explained the supernatural to Jessica and secured the apartment they left to hunt down their dad, leaving Jessica behind.

As they came back, unsuccessful in finding their dad, but successful in getting rid of the woman in white, they were surprised to find one of Sam’s friend in the demon trap, with Jessica staring him down.

“Can you believe it? He wanted to kill me,” she complained with crossed arms, after Sam had said the exorcism. Dean’s admiration for her doubled.

The next day Sam managed to catch his interview and Dean left the two of them alone to continue traveling across the country. Sam might like the whole white-pocket-fence life, but it wasn’t something Dean was comfortable with, so he continued to search for Dad alone.

Then, it was already past Dean’s twenty-seventh birthday, Sam was stabbed by a demon and in his grief Dean made a deal with a crossroads-demon on a cold road somewhere in California. Sam back alive and in one year Dean would die.

In the end it was the second February 2007 when Dean was dragged down to hell. Sam and Jess were there, having tried to hold off the hell hounds as long as possible. The last thing Dean saw before he went down to hell were Sam’s eyes, filled with grief.

In hell time stretched. He was tortured without break and screamed till his throat was raw or they cut his vocal chords. Again and again they asked him, whether he would finally be a good little girl and pick up a knife himself. Again and again he refused, until one day it just was too much. Another stretch of time passed, Dean learning the art of torture and after some time even enjoying the screams he could tear from his victims.

Then one day the demons deserted the area when a bright light arrived and cradled Dean.

Suddenly he opened his eyes to total darkness.

Only once he had crawled out of his grave, he noticed how he felt different. Dean padded down his chest, but there were no breasts, just the typical two sport bras. And there was a weight between his legs. His voice was deeper and he was a bit taller. He had more hair on his arms and his face felt a little rough.

And he cried, not only because he was free from hell, but because he was finally the Dean he had always dreamed of.

As he stood in the bathroom of the little gas station, a granola bar between his teeth, he stared in the mirror, seeing himself for the first time.

Curiously he lifted his shirt to reveal defined abs.

A grin stretched his face, as he flexed his arm muscles in front of the mirror.

There was still the matter of the hand print on his arm, but that could wait for later.

Looking into his reflection’s eyes, he finally said what he had been waiting for so long.

“My name is Dean Winchester.”

And, damn, if that didn’t sound beautiful in his new voice.

The moment was ruined by a piercing sound cutting through the air, making Dean duck and rush for the salt. But before he could even cover one windowsill the glasses burst. Shortly afterwards that was over and Dean wiped the blood from his ears.

Whatever the heck that was, he should really find Sam. Grabbing his bag with food and water (and one Busty Asian Beauties magazine) he left the shop to hot wire the car standing outside. He couldn’t wait for Sam and Jess’s reactions when they saw his new body.

**Author's Note:**

> In this story I pictured Dean as FtM Transgender, as well as bisexual and aromantic. The latter two is only alluded to.
> 
> Also it is kind of an unplanned fix-it in the sense that Jessica doesn't die.
> 
> I'm sorry for the slightly sudden ending, but it kinda fit in my opinion, so whatever.


End file.
